Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Twelve midnight.
The study door was suddenly thrown open. His tall and broad frame appeared. Then, like he was minding a straying chick, he shooed Qiao Lian out of the study room.
He only made one remark before slamming the door behind her with a thud.
“With your imagination, you should try writing trashy novels. Go to bed now.”
Qiao Lian stood outside the room door, twitching her lips.
It looked like she had made the wrong guess then.
If that wasn’t the case, then who was Song Yuanxi?
Mulling over this question, she returned to the bedroom and got back into bed.
The nap she took in the afternoon made it hard for her to fall asleep now, but she must have eventually done so after tossing and turning for some time.
Or did she?
In a semi-conscious state, she thought she heard Shen Liangchuan returning to the bedroom.
He placed a cold hand on her face, which made her squirm and reach out to push it away.
Then, she thought she heard him speak in a somewhat muffled voice, “Xiao Qiao, we’ll be okay…”
–
When Qiao Lian woke up the next morning, there was no one next to her.
She reached out for his side of the bed. It was cold. Shen Liangchuan mustn’t have returned last night.
That hand, his voice… It must have been a dream.
She got out of bed and went downstairs after washing up. Auntie Li was packing.
They were moving to Xia Yehua’s apartment. Xia Yehua was probably feeling lonely since Song Yuanxi had left to join the filming crew.
Shen Liangchuan was not in the room.
Qiao Lian asked curiously, “Auntie Li, have you seen Sir?”
Auntie Li replied with a smile, “He left at six in the morning. He said something about Mr. Song looking for him.”
Qiao Lian nodded as she recalled he had mentioned some unfinished business the night before. It looked like there really was an urgent matter.
Auntie Li added, “Madam, breakfast is ready. Have some before you go to work. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to move for you.”
“I don’t have much. I’ll pack whatever I need and you can help me move that.”
Qiao Lian walked to the dining room and took a look at the table—it was a Chinese-style breakfast.
A bowl of thick century egg and lean meat porridge, with a few small side dishes and two steamed dumplings.
She sat down and started to eat.
Auntie Li walked over and was just about to tidy up the kitchen. She took a look at the dishes and smiled again. “Madam, actually porridge is not that nutritious. I say, you should be drinking more milk.”
Hearing this, Qiao Lian’s expression darkened.
Realizing that she had said the wrong thing as well, Auntie Li coughed once and changed the topic. “Wang Lan has left, so they have forgotten to prepare the milk. From tomorrow, I’ll make sure Madam gets her milk.”
Wang Lan was the housekeeper who had leaked the photograph.
She had been with the Shen Family for many years and had cried up a storm after the incident happened. For old times’ sake, Xia Yehua didn’t want to make life difficult for her.
But having heard what Auntie Li had just said…
Qiao Lian looked up suddenly. “Are you saying the milk that I drank used to be prepared by Wang Lan?”
Auntie Li nodded. “That’s right.”
Now she remembered!
One morning after she had just moved in with the Shen Family, she had seen a housekeeper preparing milk for her. And the housekeeper had added something into the glass of milk. So that housekeeper was Wang Lan.
Something began to stir in Qiao Lian’s mind and it was about to surface. She suddenly asked, “How was Wang Lan’s relationship with Song Yuanxi?”
